


Two Weeks

by scarletjedi



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, Multi, accidental forced vacation, clone feels, discussion of various emotional issues, each chapter tagged with more specifics, force knows it takes getting marooned for these idiots to talk to each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7137401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletjedi/pseuds/scarletjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After yet another confrontation with General Grievous, Generals Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, along with Padawan Ahsoka Tano, Captain Rex, and others from Skywaler's 501st, find themselves crashed on a far-flung planet. With help two weeks away, our heroes must survive on this strange, abandoned land.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is mostly an excuse to have these characters express, share, and bond over the epic amounts of shit that keeps getting thrown their way. 
> 
> All Mando'a translations are from here: [Mando'a Translator](http://lingojam.com/mandoa-englishtranslator)
> 
> Hover over the text for a full translation, or translations are provided at the bottom for people on mobile.
> 
> You want more of me? Want to see my ramblings, fan works, and sneak peaks? Or is a story you love not updated when you expect it to be? Check out my [tumblr](scarletjedi.tumblr.com) for status updates and more!

It took longer than it should have for Rex to realize the dizzying noise was the emergency sirens, not the ringing in his ears. The filtration in his bucket stopped him from breathing it in, but with the smoke filling his vision, he still felt like he could taste it, acrid and burning on his tongue. The emergency lights blinked red in the darkness, but he could see the white of daylight pouring in to his right.

They had crashed. Yes, he remembered the jolt of impact, his General shouting for them to hang on, and the long spiral and burn of re-entry. 

“Captain! Rex! Can you move?”

That voice, the wry vowels of a Coruscant native. General Kenobi.

“Here,” Rex said; it came out as a croak. Maybe the smoke had gotten in; he’d have to check for cracks. He coughed and tried again. “Here!” He tired to push himself up, and felt the jolt when he couldn’t move. His arms could move, but he was pinned—

The crash straps. He was still buckled in. He fumbled at the buckle with shaking fingers, managing to press the release button as the general’s ginger hair swam into view; in the red lights, it looked almost as blond as Rex’s own hair. Kenobi had a rebreather mask, though his eyes were unprotected and they squinted to see in the dim, smoky air. Rex tried again, and this time, he was able to push himself up.

Kenobi reached out his hand, dispelling the smoke with a gesture, and helped Rex to his feet. “I take it we landed, sir?” Rex asked.

“I suppose you can call it that,” Kenobi said, slinging Rex’s arm over his own shoulders and taking some of Rex’s weight. He didn’t need to—Rex had traveled farther and with greater injury under his own power, but he knew enough to cherish the few moments of closeness when he could.

As they moved towards the sunlight, Rex realized two things. 1) half their kriffin’ ship was missing, and 2) Kix had grown even scarier when he was in charge. Now that they were leaving the alarms behind and the ringing in Rex’s ears started to fade, he could hear Kix barking orders as he took control of triage.

Rex held up his arm as he walked into the sunlight; even the filters on his visor had their limits when going from the dark to this extreme lightness. The sun on this world shined brighter than a medical droid’s light, and it took a moment for Rex to adjust. Before he could see fully, Kix was in his face, barking at him to “remove your damn bucket so I can see what I’m working with!” Rex pulled away from Kenobi, and pulled his damn bucket off so Kick could see what he was working with. Under the stink of burning plasma fuel, the air smelled sweet, like fresh fruit. Kix flashed a small light in Rex’s eyes, but Rex barely flinched. Compared to the brightness of the day, the small light hardly registered.

“Did you hit your head, Captain?” Kix demanded. “Loss of consciousness?”

“Don’t think so,” Rex said, “And only for a few minutes. Missed the main event, but woke up on my own,” Rex said.

Kix just grunted and gestured towards where the others were sitting under a large tree that reminded him of Felucia, though these giant fungoids were a startling Aqua. They made good shade, though, and rest of the squad was sitting or sprawled in that shade. Rex hobbled for the first few steps, but his body began to loosen with use, and his gait smoothed. Not completely, however; he was going to have a nice collection of lovely bruises under his blacks, he was sure.

“All clear,” Ahsoka said, climbing from the wreckage behind them. She had her own rebreather, and her lightsaber lit for extra light. “Rex, you were the last.”

“Saved the best, yeah?” Rex said, aiming for jovial and ending somewhere along drugged and woozy. Maybe he did hit his head after all? Or maybe there was something in the air of this place.

“Nah, she just went for desert first, ain’t that right, Commander?” Jesse called out, winking, and Ahsoka grinned back at him with all her teeth.

“Aw, Jesse, you aren’t that sweet,” she called back, making his brother laugh. Their little commander was growing up to be one hell of a fierce woman. Rex couldn’t be more proud of her. Jesse, on the other hand, was for all his loyalty, a dick. At least he was an amusing dick; his relationship with Kix was about as secret as their General’s “secret” wife, and while Rex wouldn’t say that Kix had mellowed Jesse, he did manage to focus some of that damn energy into the right sort of destruction.

Kenobi had pushed his mask up to the top of his head so he could talk to Skywalker; it pushed the normally carefully styled hair back off of his face, and Rex noticed the large purple mark that covered Kenobi’s right temple. Skywalker was glaring down at his comm, His right sleeve was torn at the shoulder, revealing his prosthesis, though his hand was still covered by his black glove. Ahsoka stood by, her one arm cross over her midsection, and the other resting on the hilt of her now deactivated lightsaber. He could just hear their voices, and if he tried he could probably figure out what they were saying, but the air was hot, even in the shade, and his head began to throb. He looked around, taking stock of their surroundings.

They had crashed onto wide grasslands; the tall grass was a muted pink, and much easier to look at than the trees. Their transport was, as Rex had suspected, half of what it should have been, and he could see a debris trail stretching out behind them. There were no birds that he could see, no animals of any kind. Hopefully any animals had just been scared away by their crash and they hadn’t landed on a dead planet. Or a bug planet. Rex hated bug planets. The movement, besides them, was the smoke that still rose from their crash, and the wind as it blew along the top of the grass.

“[ _Naakla, ge,_]() Echo said quietly in Mando’a. He was lying on his back, his leg elevated by a rock and his head propped up on Fives’s thigh. Echo’s shin armor had been removed, and there was a medical brace wrapped around his blacks. Broken leg, probably a small fracture from the way Echo was not in so much pain that he couldn’t comment on their calm surroundings.

“[ _Jii gar kar'taylir bic's an at haran,_]()” Fives griped dryly. “[ _Gar kar'taylir, jorcu vi cuyir mhi._]()” He tilted his head towards Rex, inviting him in to the joke. It wasn’t that funny, for all that it was absolutely fucking true.

Tup groaned quietly. He was sitting cross-legged in the shade, across from Fives and Echo and next to Jesse. He didn’t have any obvious injuries, but from the way he winced, Rex was sure his side would be as colorful as Rex’s own. “[ _Tion'jor gar ganar at sirbur ibac,_]() Fives? [_Jii bic Kelir banar._]()”

Fives waved it off, and Rex sighed. He wasn’t as superstitious as Tup, there were few who were, but you didn’t live as long as a soldier as Rex had without picking up a few tricks and tokens. And Fives did always speak before he thought.

A whisper of sound, and Rex looked to see their Jedi nearly on top of them. You never really got used to the way the Jedi moved, but after a while you started to notice an absence of sound, and it could give you enough warning that you didn’t jump when the Jedi were just _there_. Rex had used that trick more than once to intimidate a shiny. 

“Well, the good news is that they will be looking for us,” Obi-Wan began. “I hate to put it this way, but the propaganda machine wouldn’t let them leave us stranded.” 

“Yeah, because Force-forbid something happen to _Kenobi and Skywalker,_ ” Skywalker said, and Rex was surprised by the amount of venom in his voice. Kenobi, for his part, sighed like it was a complaint he heard many times before—and agreed with. 

“Well, I’m not complaining,” Ahsoka said, dropping down to sprawl next to Rex. “Not if it gets us rescued.” 

Anakin made a face, but he didn’t force the issue. Kenobi stroked his beard, his eyes far away. 

Rex cleared his throat. “What’s the bad news, then?” 

Kenobi looked over at him. “We’re deep in Separatist space, though far out enough to not have to really worry about unexpected visitors. But it does mean it will take some time for an extraction team to get through.” 

Rex looked over his men; his eyes catching on Echo’s leg, Tup’s ribs, the deepening purple on Kenobi’s face. “How long?” he asked. 

Kenobi sighed. “At least two weeks.” 

“Two weeks!” Jesse cried out. “How far did we get flung?” 

“Far enough,” Skywalker said. 

They had been after a Command Ship. Grievous, once again. The 501st and the 212th had convened on his ship, trying to capture or eliminate his threat, permanently. Instead, Grievous managed to set the self destruct, slipping through their fingers once more. Kenobi had become separated from Cody and his team from the 212th, and had jumped aboard their boarding craft just as the ship began to break apart. The shockwave hit them as they were running, and the next thing they knew, the alarms were sounding as they were propelled violently into hyperspace. Kenobi had ordered them all to strap in, adrenaline the only thing keeping that man from turing completely green, even as Skywalker had started in on the control panel, trying got keep them from flying through a supernova. 

They hadn’t been in hyperspace long, Rex remembered. Long enough to get everyone buckled, including Ahsoka and Skywalker himself. Long enough for Tup to work his way though his prayers and begin again, where Rex knew he was mouthing them inside his bucket. Long enough to count his heartbeats as they thudded against his ribs. (He didn’t mind going out in a blaze, taking as many damn klankers with him as he could, but he didn’t want to die like this, in an out of control boarding craft flung to the wild reaches of space.) 

“Hang on!” Skywalker had cried, and Rex forced himself to keep his eyes open. So, he saw when they dropped from hyperspace, the streaking white turning void black once more. He saw the relief wash over Kenobi’s face. He saw the piece of space junk just before it hit their forward screens. A moment later, they were being tossed about as they were pummeled by the ring of space-junk. 

Skywalker spat something truly vile in huttese, something he usually reserved for when the poodoo really hit the fan, and then they were falling, the planets surface filling their view screen. Skywalker fought the controls as hard as he could, but there was only so much he could do. Flames sprung up about the nose of the craft, they jerked and jolted, and then—

And then Rex woke up, in the burning remains of their boarding shuttle. 

“That junk should help,” Rex said, and everyone’s eyes turned to him. “”s a good shield. Keeps people from getting too close, unless they _know_ what they want’s below.” 

“Yeah, but who put it there?” Ahsoka asked. “There’s nothing down here. Who puts a decoy shield over an empty planet?” 

“It is certainly a mystery,” Kenobi said. “And one, I hope, we do not actually aim to solve. We have more pressing concerns at the moment. We have little in the way of supplies, and a long wait ahead of us. I also don’t like being out in the open like this. If the Separatists do find us first, and do make their way though that debris field, I do not want to be caught out here.” 

“No,” Skywalker said. “But this ship has our best hope for getting reliable communications back on board, not to mention weaponry. I don’t want to just abandon her completely.” 

Kenobi crossed his arms. “Did I say we should abandon the crash completely?” he asked. Rex’s eyebrows rose before he remembered that he hadn’t but his bucket back on, and forced himself into a neutral expression. Kenobi usually saved that tone of voice for when his general ignored orders to do something completely crazy, regardless of wether or not it worked in the end. 

Skywalker crossed his arms in return, squaring off. “No, but you—“

“I saw a building,” Ahsoka interrupted, cutting her master off. Both generals turned to look at her, and while she settled back down, she didn’t shrink. “As we were coming in, right before we crashed. There’s more trees behind us,” she said, gesturing at the fungoid. “And I know we flew over a building of some kind. I only saw it for an instant, but it wasn’t a natural formation.” 

“Very good Ahsoka,” Kenobi said. He looked at Skywalker but didn’t say anything for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was much more calm. “I say, we head towards that structure. If nothing else, the trees will provide better cover and possibly food. We can take what we can from the ship, and work on it in relative safety.” 

Skywalker took a moment to unclench as well, and he offered Kenobi a wry grin. “When isn’t our safety relative?” 

Kenobi’s eyes turned sad, and his smile wry for a quick moment, before the General was back. “Then that will be our plan.” 

“Kix,” Skywalker said. “Report.” 

“Everyone’s walking mobile except for Echo,” Kix said, instantly. “Fracture’s minor, but it’s still a fracture.” 

“[ _Shi gar_]()” Fives muttered, under his breath, and Echo jabbed him with his elbow. 

“We should have enough materials left to make a liter of some kind,” Ahsoka said, and Jesse and Tup both rose to help her. Rex stood as well; break’s over. Time to get back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> naakla, ge - peaceful, almost.
> 
> jii gar kar'taylir bic’s an at haran - now you know it’s all going to hell
> 
> gar kar'taylir, jorcu vi cuyir mhi - You know, because we’re us
> 
> tion'jor gar ganar at sirbur ibac, - why did you have to say that?
> 
> jii bic Kelir banar. - now it will happen.
> 
> she gar - only you


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where things start to get heavy. This chapter includes frank discussion of depression and suicidal ideation from a third-party observer.

It had been easy enough to construct a liter for Echo, using his emergency tarp and debris from the wreckage. Fives took position behind Echo’s head, and Tup picked up the slack at his feet. Skywalker had taken point with Ashoka and Jessie, and Kix walked alongside Echo, his blaster held with familiar ease. Rex covered their six with Kenobi, the General holding his lightsaber at the ready, but deactivated. Rex took comfort in Kenobi’s vigilance, and the fact that it was, as of yet, unnecessary. 

They were all of them carrying something from the crash, either salvaged parts of scavenged emergency supplies. Even Echo shared his litter with bits and pieces. Rex shifted, adjusting the strap on his pack, and resettled his blaster. He wasn’t entirely sure what he carried, but while the weight of it was minimal, it was off balance and awkward to carry. If it came to a fight, he might have to ditch his pack and hope to pick it up again after. They couldn’t afford any more injuries. 

You didn’t last long as a clone if you couldn’t read your brothers behind their faces, but Rex knew Echo was trying, not very successfully, to not take his injury as a personal failing. There wasn’t much room for self-doubt in the GAR, especially not in Torrent Company, but sometimes it snuck in anyway, and Rex knew that it found Echo more often than not from the very first. Now, Rex could read it in the tilt of his head, the way his fingers trailed over his mark for Heavy—it was a tell Echo didn’t often have, and Rex made a note to watch Echo carefully for the next few days, if Fives ever left his side. 

“If it wasn’t for the constant threat of danger, this planet would be quite beautiful,” Kenobi remarked, quietly. Rex found himself nodding, even though the planet wasn’t really to his taste. Rex knew some of his brothers preferred dryer climates after the unending rain of Kamino, but he found the lack of water and stormy skies to be too strange. It made his skin itch, and he thought he could do with a good cloud cover right about now, to ease the ever-pressing sunlight. 

Kenobi looked like he could do with some cloud cover himself, Rex noticed. If Kenobi had ever been used to constant sun, the past few years of living mostly on ship had stripped him of that, darkening his red hair and turning his pale skin milky. Now, his skin was quite flushed, both with heat and with the berry-pink of sunburn across his cheeks and down the bridge of his nose, and his hair glittered like copper metal. 

Noticing the attention, and Rex had to believe that it was a Jedi thing, to be always able to tell where a brother’s focus lay, Kenobi offered a small acknowledging smile. “Though, perhaps, it would be better with more consistent shade.” They were following their debris trail back to the woods they had seen, and there had been maybe three fungoid trees along their path, none of them as large as the first they had seen. It hadn’t bothered the troopers, of course, underneath their armor, and Ashoka seemed right at home in the sunlight. Rex knew enough about his General to know that the man when from pale to dark quickly, and tended to not notice things like absence of shade unless they were in a desert. Kenobi, on the other hand, seemed to be willing to suffer in silence. 

“You are quite pink, sir,” Rex agreed, and Kenobi rolled his eyes. 

“It’s always been this way,” he admitted. “Even as a padawan. I’ll turn pink, and peel, and then brown like a roasting bird. It’s only ever landed me in medical once, and I’ve learned much about healing since then.” 

Rex didn't think he’d ever get used to Kenobi being so cavalier about his stints in medical; the first time Rex had been in a position to see Skywalker react to Kenobi in medical during the aftermath of a joint mission had been something of a revelation. Skywalker had retained little of his Jedi composure, pacing in the wing while Kenobi had floated in a bacta tank, his metal hand flexing. He had managed to keep his face mostly clear, but when Rex had spoken (Skywalker had a call from the Chancellor himself, priority one), there had been such a storm in his eyes, there for only a moment, before the durasteel traps came down and he was more a Jedi than Rex had yet seen. When Skywalker had swept from the room, Rex had taken over watch of Kenobi until Cody had come, finally relieved of his other duties. 

It hadn’t taken long for a pattern to emerge; Rex knew Skywalker led from the front, preferring to fight with his men than direct them, and Rex had heard enough from his brothers to know that many Jedi were the same, taking their losses like any brother. Cody had been only the first to confirm Rex’s suspicions that Skywalker acted because he valued his own life as less than the others around him, even as the rest valued his more—and that he had learned that directly from Kenobi.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Cody had said over a drink one night, well over a year ago. “I’d say my kriffing general was trying to suicide by clanker.” He threw his shot back, not noticing when Rex nearly dropped his own drink, startled. “But then his job wouldn’t be done.” 

Rex had drank deeply. He knew that feeling, when the only think keeping you from swallowing your blaster was that there was _work_ to be done, and what it was like to hang on to that until the feeling passed and you could kriffing _live_ again, but he was a clone, just a few steps away from cannon fodder, not a Jedi Master. That Cody’s general could feel that way—that Rex’s General could feel that way—(and he did—Rex had found him more than once staring out of the ship’s viewport into the star fields beyond—though Rex would bet a full cycle’s credits that it wasn’t _duty_ that kept Skywalker here). It just didn’t sit right. 

“He wouldn’t,” Rex said, glad that his voice didn’t wobble when his heart skipped. He needed to sound sure; he had to be sure. 

“Nah,” Cody said after a minute, and he turned a alcohol-soaked smile in Rex’s direction. “It wouldn’t even kriffing occur to him; he’s a fighter, like any _vod_ , but sometimes I don’t think he’d mind.” 

By all the old gods, Rex missed his _vod,_ and he hoped he managed to get off that ship in time. Rex didn’t want to have to wear Cody’s name on his armor, not yet. Not ever. 

“I’m sure that’s come in handy, sir,” Rex said, voice flattened enough by his vocoder that he hoped Kenobi wouldn’t hear his sudden unease. Of course, Kenobi never did have to hear to listen. He flashed Rex a concerned glance.  
 “It has,” Kenobi said, slowly. “Are you all right, Rex?” 

“Fine, sir,” Rex said. “No lingering effects.” 

Kenobi frowned. “That wasn’t quite what I meant, Captain,” he said. 

Rex knew that, but he wasn’t going to talk either. “Sir,” he said. 

“Very well,” Kenobi said, and let it go, seeming to retreat back into himself further than he had been. Rex refused to let himself swear out loud, feeling the loss of attention like a sudden chill. 

“We’re getting close!” Ahsoka called back to them. “I can see the forest edge!” 

Rex raised his hand to his eyes, peering at the landscape before them. On the horizon was a blue-grey line of shadow—the fungoid tree forest 

“It will still take most of the day to get there,” Kenobi said. When Rex looked at him, Kenobi was looking up at the sky. “The sun is moving nearly as quickly as we are. It may even be dark before we reach the edge.” 

Rex thought about that. “We should camp in the grasslands tonight,” he said. “Forests tend towards nocturnal creatures, especially when the sun is so bright.” 

Kenobi titled his head, showing that was listening—and thinking. “Or, we’ll be right in the path of creatures who use the nighttime to brave the open plains,” he said. “Either way, it should be easier to defend, and we can make for the tree-line quickly enough if we have need. Good thinking, Rex.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Rex said, savoring the little glow that gave him, and storing it carefully away with all of the others. 

Kenobi was right, and it took them the rest of the sunlight to get to the forest’s edge. By that time, Kenobi had traded places with Ahsoka, to discuss matters with Skywalker, and Rex had focused his attention further on their young commander. 

Ahsoka, Commander Tano, he should be thinking, was still older than any of the brothers in the field, for all that she only came up to Rex’s shoulder, montrails and all. It wasn’t that she was inexperienced, because she wasn’t by far. She was a Jedi, and like Rex and his brothers, the Jedi started their training young—but trooper training was only a few years, and Jedi training could easily span a decade or more. So no, Ahsoka wasn’t shiny, and she had a violent streak that made Rex very happy when in active combat, but sometimes she was still very _young_. 

When Skywalker called them to a halt and declared that they would make camp where they stood, Ahsoka dropped her pack gratefully, stretching her arms out to the side one at a time. Skywalker shot her a look, and with a sigh, Ahsoka picked her pack back up and put it with the others stacked around Echo’s liter. Echo himself was sitting up as best he could, braced against their gear with his blaster ready to defend, just in case. The others began to make camp, and Rex joined the generals for the sitrep. He pulled off his helmet, holding it in the crook of his arm. The setting sun took on a different color, less white and more golden, and it was much easier to see when things suddenly had shadows once more. 

“We’re going to be here for the night,” Skywalker began with no introduction. “I want watches two by two from sundown to sunup.” 

Eight hours of coverage without repeat shifts. Without knowing if this planet experienced seasonal shifts in daylight, it would be difficult to judge just how long the night would be. Rex hoped for a quick night—he hated being woken up more than once. “Sir,” he said. 

“We may well be in this planet’s winter,” Kenobi said. “But I won’t be entirely sure until after we’re been through the night. It possible the temperatures may drop very rapidly, so lets get that shelter up quickly, shall we?” 

“Right,” Rex said. “Are we running cold?” 

Kenobi and Skywalker shared a look, and Skywalker tilted his head, pushing his lips out in, what he would assure anyone who would listen, wasn’t wasn’t a pout. Kenobi rolled his eyes fondly, but shook his head. 

“I wouldn’t risk it until we absolutely had to. We don’t know how the grass would burn, and we don’t know what a fire may attract. For now, let’s do everything but.” 

Rex nodded, shoving his bucket back onto his head, and went to oversee the camp. 

Jesse and Tup managed to get most of the shelter built by the time Kix joined them, having stopped to check on Echo. Fives was digging through their rations bag, taking stock of their food inventory and planning their late meal. Field rations were made with nutrition and longevity in mind—they’d give a body everything it needed, and Rex didn’t think they’d ever truly expire. They tasted like _poodoo_ , though Skywalker and Kenobi were fond of commenting that it beat the Jedi commissary. From Ahsoka’s confused stance, it had to have been a running joke. 

Fives hated the food the most of all of them, which was probably whey he usually took mess duty. At least if he was in control of the food, he’d explained once, he could try and make it less like nutrient paste. 

Echo had pointed out that it _was_ nutrient paste, and Fives had looked like Echo had caused him physical pain. 

Rex crouched next to where Fives worked. “How are we for food?” 

Fives looked up. “It’s our usual pile of [_osik,_]() sir, but it’ll last us a few days, longer if we supplement what we can.” He didn’t hesitate, but his voice dropped a little. “It won’t last a week, let alone two,” he said. 

Rex considered. “Will it get us to that structure the Commander saw?” 

Fives shrugged. “If we don’t run into trouble,” he said. From where the others had nearly finished the tents, Rex heard Tup muttering in Mando’a, though it was too quiet to hear. It made Jesse laugh, however, and Kix shake his head, so it must have been more griping about Fives tempting fate. 

“Right,” Rex said. “Do your best,” he said. 

Fives nodded sharply, and Rex went to check on Echo. Echo nodded at him when he approached, and Rex saw the aborted twitch that meant Echo nearly forgot himself to rise to his feet. Even now that the shine had rubbed off, Echo was a stickler for rules and protocol. _He’s probably do well assigned to the Senate, after—_ Rex thought, letting the rest of it drift. No vod said it out loud, and Rex tried to not even think it. 

After the war. 

If they did win, and Rex wouldn’t think of the alternative, what would the galaxy look like? What would Rex look like? Where was there space for him and his brothers in a peace-time galaxy? Would any of them live lone enough to truly see it? 

“How’s your leg?” Rex asked. 

“Kix tells me it’s healing, sir, and I should be able to walk on it after a tenday.” Echo said, a little more strained than he sounded earlier. “The meds have worn off, so it certainly feels like it.” 

Rex nodded. “We’re to split our watches, two by two, but for the first ten-day you are off rotation.” 

“Sir!” 

“I want you to sleep, Echo,” Rex said. “We’re stuck on an unknown world with unknown dangers. I want you on your feet as soon as possible, and we both know you’ll heal faster if you sleep.” 

Echo nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. 

“Good,” Rex said, and stood once more. Echo shifted his blaster, and Rex saw that, for their entire conversation, Echo had been covering Rex’s back. Good; Echo was a damn fine soldier. 

Soon, the camp was set up, and they had time to rest and eat before first watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> osik - crap


	3. Chapter 3

Predictably, Kenobi tried to wave off his portion of the rations, using his usual brand of subtle wordplay that stopped just shy of a _suggestion_ to try and distract them before removing himself from the center of camp—but Cody had briefed Rex long ago on the care and feeding of General Kenobi, and Rex wasn’t going to let his _vod_ down. So, when Rex went to get his portion, he waved two fingers at Fives, and jerked his chin subtly towards where Kenobi was digging through the pack he had carried. Fives looked over with just his eyes, and made up two portions without a word. Good. 

Rex didn’t say anything as he sat next to Kenobi, waiting only until he had settled into his seat before shoving the bowl of rations under Kenobi’s nose, making the General freeze. 

“Ah,” Kenobi said. “No thank you, Rex, I’ll—“

“Eat, or I’m telling Cody,” Rex said. Cody could cajole and reason and trap Kenobi into eating all he wanted; Rex preferred the more direct approach. It got Kenobi to stop, anyway, and— _kriff_ Rex hadn’t wanted to put that look on Kenobi’s face, the fear and loss so startling in his deep blue-green eyes for all that it was hidden in a flash. “Or maybe I’ll just tell Kix,” he continued, keeping his voice light as he could. “Or General Skywalker,” 

“Force, no, he’ll just look at me with those _eyes,_ ,” Kenobi muttered, and put his pack down, accepting his portion. Rex didn’t blame him; his general had a wounded nerf look that made even Rex falter from time to time—though nobody seemed to fall subject to it as much as Kenobi did, not even the Senator. Kenobi narrowed his eyes at Rex. “Is this how you get Anakin to do things? Blunt force and blackmail?” 

“Of course not, sir,” Rex said. “The general would eat a gundark if it didn't kill him first.” It was true: Anakin Skywalker would eat things that not even the toughest clones would touch, and did it so matter-of-factly, like it would never occur to him that the food was barely edible. Rex had thought, initially, that it was a Jedi thing, and then he had watched General Kenobi pick his way through field rations. 

Kenobi huffed a familiar, exasperated laugh. “True enough, thought not at all what I meant,” he said, looking at Rex both indulgent and chastising, like Rex was still a cadet, pushing his limits. “But don’t worry, Rex. I won’t push. Diplomatic evasion of that effort deserves to be rewarded.” He picked up a piece of dried protein; it was brown and the consistency of boiled leather. Drink water with it, and it would fill a belly easily enough. Rex knew, with Fives’s intervention, it probably tasted like something other than salt, even if there wasn’t much he could do to tenderize the piece. Speaking of, Rex picked up his own protein and tore into it with the side of his mouth. Herby, a bit spicy, and yeah—salty. Not the worst he’d ever eaten. Rex shrugged mentally and forced himself to chew slowly. 

Sighing, Kenobi took a bite of his protein. Anyone else, and the delicate bite would have never torn through the meat, but Rex caught a glimpse of enough tooth, a flash of a sharp incisor, to know that, behind his Core World manners, Kenobi had a bite to him. Rex breathed through the spike of adrenaline, and drank from his canteen. 

A brother cried out in protest (Echo—something forever shiny in his voice, no matter how scuffed the rest of him became) and Rex’s head shot up, alert, even as his ear picked up the tone (startled, but no danger. Stand down, stand _down_ ). Kenobi was frozen beside him, like a predator scenting prey. HIs hand was at the level of his saber, though he hadn’t drawn the blade, and his barely touched food was balanced precariously on a small rock next to him. Then, in a matter of time too small to be measured even in heartbeats, came the laughter; the rumbling of his brothers, the breathless chuckle of his General, and the bright peels from his commander. A prank, then, on Echo. Probably by Fives. Rex would discipline, but Echo would be on his _vod_ enough without Rex’s involvement. 

“Do you ever think we’re missing out?” Kenobi asked, his voice quiet like he hadn’t meant to speak at all, but he didn’t try to take the question back and it hung between them, suspended on whatever strange understanding that had always lingered between them. 

Rex could have pretended to misunderstand, and it was on the tip of his tongue to deflect—to answer a question with a question that told others he was too slow (helpful with the enemy, and idiots in command), or to reticent (Kenobi, only ever with Kenobi) to answer. He didn’t, and would, instead, match Kenobi’s sudden honesty with his own. 

Because that was before, before Cut Lawquane and Slick and siege after bloody siege. He was good at what he did, liked it even—being a part of history, of something bigger and being _good_ at what he did—but there times. 

There were times. 

Times when they were all running on empty, pushing it further and faster and harder because they _had_ to, because there was no other _option,_ and they’d been stuck for days/weeks/months, and the only down time they got was on an infirmary cot, and only then until they were patched up _enough,_ healed _enough,_ ready _enough _—and Kenobi was one of the worst of them, never willing to let a Vod take the brunt of any blow. And it was better, so much better, than it could have been, with a General who actually gave a crap about his troops—but even Kenobi gets grey around the edges.__

__(And even the Shinies knew that shit was bad when Kenobi looked rough. Rex used to think it was because Kenobi was just that much _better_ , but now he knew it was just that Kenobi was more used to _hiding_ it.) _ _

__Sometimes, Rex wondered what Kenobi would be capable of if he ever went to battle at one-hundred percent; well fed, well rested, and without any lingering issues. He suspected, and he had money on this with Cody, that the Seps would fall within a day._ _

__But Kenobi didn’t get leave, and didn’t carve it out for himself like Skywalker did (whenever they were near Naboo or Coruscant, Rex could bank of a few extra rotations of light duty), and clones didn’t get vacations._ _

__“Never used to,” he said._ _

__Kenobi hummed, his silent acceptance a thank you for Rex’s quiet honesty, and he slowly began to eat his food._ _

__***_ _

__Rex took first watch; he never could sleep the first night on a new world, no matter how easily he dropped off everywhere else. He stood by the Northern edge of the camp, between the temporary shelter (a simple lean-to, but it did what it had to), and the edge of the forest beyond. One by one, the camp fell to sleep behind him—all save for one. If Kenobi ever slept more than five hours in a day it would be a Force-blessed miracle, and he was as twitchy as Rex the first night. Still, Skywalker had pulled first watch with Rex, and was quietly stalking the perimeter on the other side of camp, so Obi— _Kenobi_ was meditating or whatever mystical Jedi _osik_ it was that let Kenobi think he could live on tea alone. _ _

__As the familiar sounds of the camp faded, the new sounds of the night emerged. Kenobi was right about one thing—this place really came alive when the suns went down._ _

__Small creatures rustled through the tall grass, keeping a wide birth from the camp. Prey animals, and ones not willing to risk a new predator. (Rex shifted on his feet—skittish prey meant effective predators). A rising insect droning crested in waves, reminding Rex not so subtly of Genosis, and he shivered. His night display couldn’t see the bugs, exactly, but he caught sight of Skywalker swatting at them with his bionic hand, flailing, his Jedi grace leaving him, as he walked into a storm of them. Rex snickered to himself, not quite quiet enough for the comm to miss, and Skywalker stopped waving his arms just long enough to glare in Rex’s direction and toss him the rude two-fingered salute that the 501st favored._ _

__It would have been more effective if Skywalker’s hair wasn’t worse than its usual mess._ _

__Sudden motion above, and Rex’s blaster was drawn and aimed before his HUD scanner informed him that it was just a native flying mammal. It gave them the same wide birth as the skittering creatures, and squeaked as it flew—probably some sort of echolocation. Rex turned his head to watch as they swooped past. Hopefully they ate those kriffin’ noisy bugs._ _

__Skywalker trod heavily as he approached, and Rex was thankful for his General’s thoughtfulness. Really, all the Generals, the duelists _especially,_ walked without sound, but Skywalker earned his damn name. _ _

__There were times, when Skywalker was preoccupied or keyed up and _spoiling_ for a fight that gravity seemed to an _afterthought_ —and Skywalker seemed to be so much _more_ than himself, it wouldn’t surprise Rex at all if one day Skywalker simply…walked away, though the sky to some greater cosmic beyond. _ _

__Then he would open his mouth, and insert his boot, and he proved himself to be just another _vod_. _ _

__“Seems quiet,” Skywalker said. “I’m not sensing anything. You get any readings?”_ _

__Rex wasn't a Jedi—he didn’t care two-cred about the Force, save that it was another tool in their arsenal and he _respected_ that the way he respected a heavycanon—but he had his instincts, and he had learned to trust their uncanny accuracy. Right now, they weren’t sensing anything more sinister than his own dark thoughts—and even his concern about the local predators was more speculative than immediate. _ _

__And his HUD was lit up all green, besides._ _

__“No, sir” Rex said. “Just Jesse snoring.”_ _

__Skywalker snorted. “How Kix puts up with him…” he trailed off, shaking his head. Rex grinned, showing his teeth and knowing that, while his general wouldn’t see it, he would know anyway._ _

__It was on the tip of Rex’s tongue to comment on just _what_ Kix found so appealing—he’d certainly heard enough of it, and not always after lights out. Jesse didn’t just _snore_ loudly—but he kept his tongue. Skywalker always got a bit touchy around locker room sex talk. (Kenobi, Rex knew, handled such talk with a diplomat’s aplomb. Rex always got the impression that Kenobi rather liked to feel included, though he never participated). Rex never asked why, but he kept it clean when he could. (he suspected—well, a lot, actually, but Skywalker and his Senator seemed to get along just fine, so Rex had figured it was simply a privacy thing. Some of his brothers got tetchy about sex because when a _vod_ wasn’t alone, he was with his squad)._ _

__“One of the universe’s great mysteries,” Rex said._ _

__Skywalker clapped Rex on his shoulder plate and set off into the dark for another patrol. The rest of Rex’s shift passed surprisingly quickly, until he crawled into the shelter to wake Jesse and Tup for their shift. Jesse grumbled at getting woken, though he was alert readily enough. Tup didn’t say a word, just adjusted his bucket and left the shelter._ _

__In the quiet that followed, Rex surprised himself and fell asleep quickly. So passed their first day and night on the planet._ _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice: there is a coding issue during the conversation between Rex and the others that's cutting out chunks of dialogue. to fix this problem, I'm taking out the hover over text. Sorry ya'll. the translations are in the endnotes.

Rex woke with the sun. This time, Fives and Ashoka were absent, and Jesse was once again snoring, curled up around Kix, who was awake and looking torn between enjoying having Jesse in his arms and the desire to smother him in his sleep. Tup was asleep next to him, curled up and away and still save for his breathing. Echo was awake and taking personal inventory—Rex wondered if Echo was able to sleep much. Kix didn’t have much in the way of pain killers, and Echo had to be hurting. (Rex also knew that Echo could, and had, fight if he had to; Rex hoped it wouldn’t come to that, all the same.) Skywalker may have been asleep, but Rex couldn’t tell for sure with Skywalker’s metal arm slung across his eyes. 

Kenobi was awake, sitting lotus-style and deep in meditation. To Rex’s eye, meditation always seem to shine. They didn’t, he knew, but in his memory the Jedi seemed to shimmer. Jesse saw it, too, but he had less idea than Rex what it could mean. 

Kenobi opened his eyes, smiling softly when he saw Rex watching. “Good morning, Captain,” he said, and Rex didn’t think he was imagining the warmth in his tone. “Sleep well?” 

“Sir,” Rex said, confirming. His voice was even deeper than usual, roughened with his unusually fast sleep, and he ran a hand over his face, trying to force himself fully awake through sheer willpower. When he looked, Kenobi’s eyes were dark, like the oceans of Kamino, and Rex found himself staring. 

Fives stuck his head into the shelter. “Foods up,” he said, and was gone. 

“Ah. Breakfast awaits,” Kenobi said, gesturing elegantly with one arm and rolling easily to his feet. Rex tucked his bucket under his arm and followed Kenobi out of the tent. 

Morning was not as bright as Rex had expected, the single sun that had risen was hidden behind a thick canopy of dark clouds. 

“I don’t like the look of that,” Kenobi commented, and Rex activated his analyzer. 

“Looks like standard water vapor,” he said, once the tech had finished its scan. “A bit alkaline, but well within safe limits for humans and humanoids.” 

Kenobi sighed. “We’re going to get very wet today, Rex,” he said. “I can feel it.” 

Rex looked at Kenobi, and then the cloud cover. It was dark, yes, but it didn’t really look like the rainclouds on Kamino—and Rex had seen a _lot_ of rainclouds on Kamino. “Can Jedi predict the weather?” he asked, without really thinking about it. 

Kenobi looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Well, some can. If a Jedi is particularly attuned to the living Force, they may even influence the weather.” He looked away again, a strange smile, small and sad and fond, played about his mouth, mostly hidden by his beard. “My master was once such Jedi,” he said, and Rex felt the surprise play across his face. He schooled his features as quickly as he could, but—Kenobi never spoke of his master, at least not to Rex. “It was a handy ability on many of our missions, when rain or snow—or their lack—could have caused catastrophe.” He paused, frowning. “There were a few times, I’m pretty sure, when he caused it to rain simply because I didn’t like it, and often responded with ill-grace. I’m not sure if it was to teach me tolerance, of if he simply enjoyed my impersonation of a wet lothcat.” He shrugged, his smile turning rueful. “It would be the kind of lesson he would employ, and would fit his sense of humor.” He shook his head. “But no, nothing so glamorous, I’m afraid. I’ve taken several injuries in my life that ache abominably when there’s weather, and my leg has been screaming at me all morning.”

“Fair enough,” Rex said, and found himself returning the smile. He had his own set of scars that ached this morning. 

Kenobi held his grin for a long moment, but it faded as he looked out over the fungoid forest. “Eat well—we’ve got quite a walk ahead of us.” 

***

The second sun rose as they broke camp, cutting bright light across the surface of the planet, and for a few brilliant minutes they had both sunshine and dense cloud cover. It gave the camp a surreal quality, and everything suddenly seemed in higher definition as the shadows grew deep and sharp. It felt like an omen, though Rex would be hard pressed to tell what kind. 

[_“ibic taap cuyir Nuarra. vi vaabir nayc ganar Nau bal tra’vhipir."_]() Jesse grumbled as he climbed from the tent behind Rex. 

Six snorted as he climbed out behind him. [_“elek, ibac cuyir meg cuyir Nuarra about ibic taap.”_]()

“Get you’re _besbe_ and get ready. We want to move before the weather turns,” Rex said. 

“Sure thing, Captain,” Jesse said with a lopsided grin, and shoved his bucket on his head. Kix pulled out his light and shined it in Rex’s eyes. Rex flinched, but held steady otherwise. 

Stepping back, Kix nodded. “You’re cleared, Captain.” 

_”Mar’e”_ Rex said, flat. Kix rolled his eyes, and Rex wondered how anyone think that Kix and Jesse weren’t actually perfect for each other. “Haili cetare, vod.”

Kix sketched a perfect salute, for all that the rest of him was already distracted by something, and already on to the next thing. 

“A hand, Cap?” Fives called, and Rex held back the shelter flap as Fives and Tup carried Echo out on his stretcher. Echo was not happy about being carried, and he bore it with as much ill grace as Rex had ever seen from Echo--which was more than Tup, but a lot less than, say, Slick. Still, he cooperated just on the right side of regulation, and so Rex would let it slide. 

***

They entered the forest before mid-morning, just as the clouds above started to ominously darken. They moving as quickly as possible through the rough terrain--meaning, of course, that they weren't actually moving all that quickly. The fungoid's bulbous tips didn't let much light through, and the undergrowth was surprisingly dense. 

"It's incredible," Kenobi commented, holding his lightsaber up as a glow rod. (Personally, Rex appreciated the utility, but Cody, for whatever gods-known reason, took offense to the General's tendency to use his weapon as a light source). "All of these species adapted to shadow instead of sun." 

"There's certainly enough of it," Skywalker said, slicing through a particularly thick vine. The vegetation fought back, at bit, giving more resistance to the plasma blades than most plants Rex had seen. Since there was little in the way of animal paths, at least for animals big enough for them to follow, the Jedi were forced to forge their own path. 

"I'm surprised there's as much plant life as there is," Tano commented, wandering over with her yellow saber held aloft. "I thought all worlds with binary Suns were deserts, like Tatooine." 

Skywalker scowled, the way he always did when someone brought up his homeworld. Rex had been there--he couldn't say he didn't understand that reaction. Kenobi smiled at Tano, and Rex wondered if Kenobi was disappointed that Tano wasn't _his_ padawan after all. He was good with the young ones, at least, once they reached Tano's age. (That wasn't to say that the little ones didn't love Kenobi, but Kenobi never seemed to know what to do with them until they could make themselves clearly understood. Skywalker, on the other hand, would happily be smothered by a pile of infants...as long as they weren't Huts.) Who knows, maybe Cody would have a Jedi Commander to work with himself, one day. 

"Oh, most are," Kenobi said. "If they're inhabitable at all. But these stars must be father away from this planet." He lowered his blade but kept it lit, and stepped away from the vines. "Ot course, it could also be a function of whatever force is shielding this planet and attracting all that space junk. It may filter the radiation just enough to allow for life--besides, there may be desert closer to the equator, on the other side of the plains. 

"I see," Tano said. "But what kind of shield could do that? Do you think it's natural?" 

"Never seen anything natural like it," Skywalker said. "Then again, I can't think of anything mechanical like it, either. But if it is a construct, the building you found could hold the key, Snips." 

Tano smirked. "Naturally." 

"Yeah, yeah," Skywalker said. "Come up here and give your master a hand, will ya?" 

Tano jogged to the front, leaving Rex and Kenobi in their usual position as rear guard. Kenobi was deep in thought, one hand smoothing over his beard as they walked, his 'saber idly clearing detritus from the path Skywalker and Tano forged. 

_”Bid, teh solus at jiila kyr'am, pehea vaabir gar mirdir vi cuyir?”_ Fives asked. Rex frowned. 

_"Ibac's nayc ara at mirdir, verd.”_

_”Nu'amyc par mhi,”_ Echo added. _"gar ganar at mirdir te adla.”_

Rex scowled. _“Ni nayc ganar at mirdir mayen.”_

_Iguuror gar ori'gehaat'ik kar'taylir darasuum par—_

“Jesse!” Rex snapped, cutting him off. _“Ogir cuyir nayc ori'gehaat'ik kar'taylir darasuum.”_

Jesse grinned back. _“Tbac cuyir not meg Cody me'dinuir"_

Rex narrowed his eyes. Jesse wasn’t wrong, per say. That _was_ what Cody said, usually demanding that Rex treat Cody’s general right and get off his ass—but there was no way _Jesse_ would know that. 

“Eyes front, trooper,” Rex snapped, and Jesse lifted his hand in a technically perfect salute that somehow still smacked of playful teasing. Rex really didn’t know how he did it. The others were trying to hide snickers—all except for Kix, who was grinning to beat all. 

“Everything alright, Rex?” Kenobi asked, and Rex was so very glad his bucket would hide his blush. Kenobi was closer than he had been, and Rex forced himself not to stutter. 

“Fine, sir,” Rex said. “The troops were just expressing their desire to run drills tonight.” There was collated, if muttered, groaning, and Rex was pretty sure it was Tup who said, almost quiet enough to not be heard, “I’m not involved, why am I getting punished?”

Kenobi flashed a smile and Rex was distracted by the dimple that appeared in Kenobi’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll oblige them, then.”

“Hey!” Skywalker’s voice came floating back through the trees. “We found water!” 

Kenobi visibly brightened. “Well. It’s about time we had some good news.” 

Of course, that was when it started to rain. 

Kenobi’s eyes shut as the first drops landed on top of his head, and then looked up at the sky as if it had personally betrayed him. The general hadn’t worn more than vambraces and the Jedi pauldron in the time that Rex had known him, and since they hadn’t exactly planned on traveling, Kenobi didn’t have his robes. (Not that Kenobi ever seemed to have his robes, to hear Cody complain of it. “I’ve three in reserve,” Cody had said. “Just in case, but he keeps getting new ones. It’s a waste.”)

“Come on,” Kenobi said, raising his voice to be heard over the rain. “We wont stay any drying standing here.” He lit his saber, the rain hissing as it hit the blade, and started to lead his way through the gloom towards Skywalker and Tano, giving a quick hand to Kix as he finished covering Echo’s field dressing. 

Fungoids, Rex knew, needed plenty of water, so the amount of rain didn’t give Rex pause. He was used to Kamino rain, besides, and their buckets were carved to draw the rain away from their eyes. Still, the rain came down faster than the fungoids could absorb and they were slowed by the rising mud. Jesse was sliding so much that Rex was for a moment worried about quicksand as a possible reality. It was a relief, then, to get to where Skywalker and Tano stood huddled under a helpful fungoid cap. Kenobi joined them with what was for him visible relief. 

This was a good a place as any for a rest, and Rex gestured for the rest of the company to unload. Jesse dropped his pack to the ground like it was hot, but the others managed to keep some dignity about them. Rex eased his own pack off his shoulders and placed it on the ground next to Kix’s supplies. He rested a hand briefly on Echo’s shoulder, and Echo nodded up at him. 

The forest floor ended abruptly just on the other side of the Fungoid and Rex stepped forward for a better look. They were standing on the edge of a cliff face, the water some ten meters below them—roaring happily along rapids swelled with the sudden rain. The cliff wall tucked back under the edge, making it appear as if Rex was standing on a shelf rather than a ledge. 

The ground on the other side of the river was far lower, only a meter above the river itself, and they were high enough that Rex could see clear over the fungoids to the structure in the distance. It was mostly hidden by the greying rain, but it showed up clearly enough on Rex’s binoculars when he pulled them out. 

It was loud enough that the Jedi’s conversation was a murmur in the background, but the crack that echoed out across the forest was loud and clear. 

“REX!” 

Rex fell, the ground giving way beneath him, and for one nauseating minute he was in free fall—and then he stopped abruptly in mid-air, and hung for a moment, breathless before he began to rise back up. He looked over his shoulder and saw the ledge he had been standing on was almost completely gone—but was happy to note that there was a full compliment of white armor still up on the ledge; he had been the only _vod_ to fall. 

Rex watched as their packs were swept away with the falling rock as he was slowly lowered back to the ground. His landing was gentle, allowing him time to regain his feet with some dignity—Rex wasn’t surprised to see Kenobi with his hand outstretched, rather than Skywalker or Tano. The commander had skill, but she was young enough yet that her fine control could slip under stress, and his general—

Well, Rex would be surprised if Skywalker ever had much control. He had power in spades, Rex had seen it in action, and he could control himself to the finest minutiae—one only had to look at his flying to see that—but when it came to things outside of himself, it was like his power overrode his control every time. Rex was sure that was behind Skywalker’s fast and loose style—Rex knew brothers like that, ones who chose power and speed over control, who ran and flew and shot by the seat of their pants. They were, to a brother, fine soldiers who burned fast and hot, and tended to take down their enemy with them when they inevitably crashed. 

“All right, Rex?” Kenobi asked, reaching out with a hand to grip Rex’s arm, just below his pauldron. Somehow, Rex felt even more grounded, even as he was glad that his bucket hid the unwelcome heat in his face. 

“Fine, sir,” Rex said, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I can’t same the same for our dinner, however.” 

Kenobi’s face fell impressively before he was able to catch himself, and everyone turned to look where the river rapids curved to a drop-off, their gear and rations long-gone.

“All of our food?” Kenobi asked, a bit plaintive. 

Skywalker clapped his hands together. “Well, it looks like we’re hunting. Rex, you and Obi-Wan can continue towards the structure.” He dropped his metal hand on Tano’s shoulder. “Snips and I will bring you dinner.” Taco grinned, her teeth sharp, and bounced on her toes. 

“We’ll keep an eye out for edible plants,” Kenobi said, his General mask firmly in place. 

“Good plan,” Skywalker said, already leading Tano from camp. Togruta, Ashoka had explained one night about a year before,running a finger along the edge of the teeth in her headdress, were carnivores—hunters—and much of their culture still revolved around the hunt. “Maybe you’ll even find a tea plant,” Skywalker threw over his shoulder before they disappeared into the foliage. 

“I’m never that lucky,” Obi-wan muttered dryly. Rex tilted his head in sympathy. Rex, like most soldiers he knew, appreciated a good mug of caff—it kept a body going when field stimulants were too harsh and sleep was still a long way away. Skywalker had adopted the habit as well, drinking his caff like a spacer—any way he could get it. Rex wasn’t looking forward to the headache that would inevitably find them by the end of the day, he he knew the generals were no different. 

Rex had seen both the generals walk off injuries that would kill a _vod_ , thanks to their power in the Force, but for whatever reason, the Jedi were just as prone to caff-withdrawl as anyone. 

“Let’s not waste time,” Kenobi said. “Move out.” 

Gamely, Fives and Tup picked up Echo once more, and Kenobi lit his ‘saber, using the brilliant blue blade to clear a path through the undergrowth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ibic taap cuyir Nuarra. vi vaabir nayc ganar Nau bal tra'vhipir. - This place is strange. We’re not supposed to have sun and cloud. 
> 
> elek, ibac cuyir meg cuyir Nuarra about ibic trap - Yeah, that’s what’s strange about this place. 
> 
> besbe - kit (slang)
> 
> Mar’e - at last
> 
> Haili cetare, vod- eat up (fill your boots), brother.
> 
> Bid, teh solus at jiila kyr'am, pehea vaabir gar mirdir vi cuyir? - So, on a scale of one to immediate, horrible death, how fucked do you think we are? (so, from alone to immediate death, how do you think we are?)
> 
> Ibac's nayc ara at mirdir, verd - That's no way to think, soldier.
> 
> Nu'amyc par mhi - Normal for us. 
> 
> gar ganar at mirdir te adla. - You have to think the same.
> 
> Ni nayc ganar at mirdir mayen - I don’t (no) have to think anything
> 
> guuror gar ori'gehaat'ik kar'taylir darasuum par— - like your epic love for—
> 
> ogir cuyir nayc ori'gehaat'ik kar'taylir darasuum. - There is no epic love
> 
> Tbac cuyir not meg Cody me’dinuir - That’s not what Cody said.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks to punsbulletsandpointythings for being a wonderful beta!

Going was slower than before. Picking their careful way down the side of a cliff that was not meant to be climbed, and they broke for camp farther from their destination than they had hoped. 

Still, Kenobi seemed pleased that they would reach the ziggurat the next day. Camp was set up quickly, the fungoid trees proving to be more than decent cover from the rain, and Kenobi bent to light the fire himself. The rain was still coming down steadily, though not in the sheets it was before, and it made the fire jump and spark. The saturated wood didn’t burn cleanly either, and Kenobi spent a long moment waving his arms to dispel the great clouds of smoke that billowed up. Eventually, he grabbed a few of the broad leaves from a nearby bush and wove them together at the base. Inserting it into the ground, it created an air break, keeping the smoke away from them and, eventually, making the smoke die down. 

Kenobi was just finished nursing the blaze to full size when Skywalker and Tano returned, a large herbivore-creature slung across Skywalker’s shoulders. He seemed pleased to be carrying it, and unconcerned by the blood coating his neck and back.

Looking quite disturbed himself, Kenobi distanced himself from both the butchering and Skywalker’s attempts to clean himself. (He had roped Tano into giving him a hand, and the little Commander seemed to be enjoying the chance to pour cold water down her Master’s back). Instead, Kenobi spoke with Kix, getting a field report if the serious look on Kix’s face was any judge. When Kix looked over at Rex, Rex knew they were talking about him. 

Rex rolled his eyes. He was _fine_. This whole thing was ridiculous. He fell, he was captured. He hadn’t even thrown up when the sudden loss to gravity had made his already damaged head spin. Deliberately, he turned and joined Fives. 

His brother was butchering the beast with his field knife, moving in swift and efficient motions. Jesse and Tup had been sent to get clean water—or as clean as they could find. They would have to boil their water if none of the water purifying tablets had survived. 

There was a lot of meat. A _lot_. And a lot of blood, too, more than Rex had figured possible considering how much was currently being scrubbed off of his general. Rex frowned as Fives added another slab of meat to the ever growing pile. 

“This is far more than we can eat,” Rex said. Fives shrugged.

“More than we can eat, _today_ ,” he said. “But we don’t know how long we’ll be here. This guy’ll feed the lot of us for at least a few days if we treat it right.” He looked up. “But that means we have to cook it all tonight. With no refrigeration, no food stasis, it’ll go bad too quickly.” 

Rex frowned. “Cooking that much meat might attract attention.” 

Fives dropped another slab of meat on the pile. There was less than half of the beast still intact, and Fives sat back on his heels to look up at Rex, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It left a streak of red blood behind, and Rex’s hand twitched with the need to wipe his _vod’ika’s_ face clean. 

“That’s not the problem,” Fives said. “Cooked meat is good, yeah, but even that’ll go bad without proper storage. We need to smoke the meat—make it last at room temperature.” 

Smoke meant visibility. Smoke could mean detection. 

Smoking meat was also a lengthy process—one that could take hours, if not a full day. They would need a constant heat source, and a way to circulate the air. 

All of which was hard to do in the ever present rain. 

Tup re-entered the camp, carrying several filled water sacks, though there was no sign of Jesse. Rex frowned. “Tup!” he called. 

Tup passed a water skin to Tano, and looked over his shoulder. “He stopped for firewood. He should be back any moment.” 

Sure enough, as Tup spoke, Jesse returned, arms laden with dryer wood. No wood would be left dry, not unless it had been pre-chopped and left in a convenient cave, but the rain didn’t look like it had soaked through. 

“Keep going,” Rex said, turning back. “We’ll figure it out.” Fives nodded, and went back to cutting. 

Rex went to the tent next, poking his head in to check on Echo. “You alright?” 

Echo looked up from his work; Skywalker had given Echo the broken pieces he had salvaged from the ship with instructions to do his best to get a transceiver functional. Echo had taken to the last gratefully, relieved to have something he could do to help. 

“Alright, sir,” Echo said. “Can’t say the same for these parts, however. Most of ‘em are junk.” 

“Do your best,” Rex said. “If the General gave you the task, it’s one he believes you’re capable of.” 

Echo nodded sharply, and bent over his project once more. Rex backed out of the tent and looked around. Kenobi had moved away from Kix and was now with Jesse by the fire. Rather than wait for Kix to find him, Rex turned quickly and joined Tano and Skywalker at the edge of camp. 

Skywalker was standing, stripped of his clothes, at the edge of a fungoid whose cap tilted, creating a runoff more like a rainspout than the shower Skywalker seemed to be using it as. He was scrubbing his back with his robotic hand, checking to see if the water was running clean, while his flesh hand ran through his hair. Tano, it seemed, had taken Skywalker’s clothes a little further down and was scrubbing them against a rock, her back to her Master. Field modestly. 

Rex looked at Skywalker’s back. “Missed a spot,” he said, and Skywalker jumped. 

“Damnit, Rex,” Skywalker said, and Rex grinned. It wasn’t often he got his general, and this was good payback for that stunt Skywalker had pulled on the wall. If Rex had been meant to fly, he’d have been given wings. 

Rex turned – Kix had stopped by the fire to speak with Jesse, and Rex beat a tactical retreat to Kenobi's side.

“Ah, Rex,” Kenobi said, looking up with a smile. He was examining – well, Rex wasn't sure what it was. It looked like an insect of some kind, but he had never seen one with feathers before. “Isn’t this the damnedest thing?”

“It's something all right, sir,” Rex said. “Is it… Safe?”

“I have no idea,” Kenobi said, and Rex thought that, really, Kenobi had no reason to sound so excited about a possible threat.

"Is it edible?” Skywalker asked, walking over to them. He’d re-dressed in his trousers and tunic, but held his tabards and belt in his hand. 

Kenobi looked faintly horrified. Rex wasn’t sure if it was because Skywalker implied eating the bug, or eating _this particular_ bug. Cody had shared stories of Kenobi’s eating habits ( _bad habits_ , the Cody voice in Rex’s head grumbled). Kenobi could and would eat anything, provided it was offered as part of a cultural exchange or diplomatic function, or if they were near starvation. Kenobi, like all the Jedi, could go for longer with less in an emergency, so Rex wouldn’t be surprised if Kenobi made it a habit go with less to make sure his troops got more. It was a sign of a caring commander.

( _he’s an idiot_ his inner Cody snapped, and Rex had to agree. They were the Jedi. Rex and his brothers were bred to be expendable. They didn’t like it, they would fight with everything they were to prevent it from happening, but it didn’t change the fact that the Jedi were _vital_ to the war effort—despite how much Kenobi would protest…or how much, more and more, Rex choked on his own thoughts. They were _people_ damnit, not _things_ ). 

Rex, on the other hand, didn’t really think it was all that strange, eating bugs. They ate other animals, after all—though, having grown up on processed protein, Rex was sure his opinion was kind of skewed. He knew some brothers, like Fives, coveted “real” food, and would go out of their way to get it. Echo, Rex knew, was always bartering for whatever spices or snacks came through the barracks—little things to surprise Fives. If the rest of them benefited from a bit of variety in their diet, that was a pleasant side effect. 

There were others, though, and Rex thought Cody was among them, who preferred the processed protein; these clones found their individuality elsewhere, and preferred the comfort and security of steady, solid food. Rex was in the middle, he felt. He liked trying new foods, but the protein helped settle him after unsettling days. ( _What day isn’t unsettling, following General Skywalker_ Cody mused, and Rex rolled his eyes, thinking Kenobi wasn’t much better.)

“I…doubt it,” Kenobi said at last, putting the bug back on the trunk of the fungoid and stepping forward to help Anakin with his robes. Kenobi’s hands were sure, as if he’d helped Anakin dress a thousand times—and maybe he had. Rex knew his knowledge of Jedi life pre-war was devastatingly limited. He had no idea what role a Master had in his Padawan’s dress—and since Ahsoka insisted on not dressing in traditional Jedi attire, Rex wasn’t sure she knew either. 

“Speaking of,” Anakin said, looking towards Rex as Kenobi jerked Anakin’s belt into place. “How’s Fives doing with dinner?” 

Rex looked over his shoulder where Fives was happily continuing to butcher their catch. He was bloodied up to his elbows, but seemed nearly finished. By the fire, Tup and Jesse were rigging up a rack of some sort—most likely to dry the meat they couldn’t eat. 

“Good, sir,” Rex said. “Though he did say the bigger issue would be preservation—keeping the meat from spoiling until it’s been eaten.” 

“Salt dry—Oh right,” Anakin said. He frowned, and walked off towards Fives. Rex turned to Obi-Wan, who shrugged. 

“Salt drying—pack the meat in salt and bury it in hot sand—the cooked meat could last for months, and is usually eaten dry or reconstituted in soups and stews. It’s a common practice on desert worlds, where meat is scarce.” Kenobi crossed his arms. “Is Fives sure the meat is safe to consume?” 

“Kix looked it over,” Rex said. “Passed the scanners. It’s like nerf meat, but he wasn’t sure about the taste.” 

“Mmm,” Kenobi hummed, stroking his hand over his beard, as he often did while thinking. His hand paused, covering his mouth, as his eyes looked at something only he could see. After a moment, he shook his head. “Not-nerf steaks in the woods on an unknown planet. Just like old times,” he muttered. 

Rex frowned. “Sir?” 

Kenobi’s eyes snapped to him, and he smiled, his hand dropping.

“Apologies, Rex. I didn’t mean to drift off like that.” He looked over the camp, eyes sweeping for threats. When none were found, he smiled at Rex once more, small and fond. “When I was a Padawan, my Master and I were often assigned to the Rim, or on missions that required a more…unorthodox approach. More than once we found ourselves on the run, camping in the woods and making do with what the local flora and fauna could provide.” He sighed. “At least this time no one is actively trying to kill us,” he added, wry. 

Rex frowned, fighting a shiver. “Yet,” he said, and Kenobi huffed a short laugh, looking at him. 

“My, you’re gloomy,” Kenobi teased, and Rex raised an eyebrow at him, saying without words: _I’m not the one reminiscing about being lost in the woods with your teacher. I wouldn't’ start._

Kenobi just grinned, his dimples flashing. 

The rain slowed, but did not stop by the time Fives had gotten dinner ready. There wasn’t much variety, which Rex knew bothered Fives, but Kix assured them that everything was safe to eat from wither parasites or toxins, and that the meat had a much more complex nutritional profile, so they really didn’t _need_ other foods to compensate. 

Skywalker and Tano dug right in; Tano’s teeth flashed in a way that reminded Rex uncomfortable that her species were truly carnivores. It didn’t matter how tough you were, everybody shuddered when faced with a being that could, technically, eat you—no matter how sure you were that they really wouldn’t. It helped that Rex could practically hear the disgusted groan that Tano would make at the suggestion—and see the paling of Skywalker’s face. 

For a long time, Rex had thought Skywalker ate like a soldier—efficient, and with the idea that every meal could be his last, so he’d better not waste it. When Tano had become his commander, Rex had thought that perhaps it wasn’t a soldier’s trait, but a Jedi one, as Ahsoka also ate quickly and defensively. 

But then, one day, Rex had eaten with Kenobi, and all thoughts of how Skywalker ate were thrown out the airlock. Kenobi was refined when he ate, his manners like those on the holonet dramas that Hardcase watched when he could. He ate—not sparingly, but lightly. Rex wondered if his variation of human simply needed less food. Then, once while trapped in the field, Rex had witnessed Kenobi eating just as desperately as his men. It was confusing, and Rex tried not to think about it. 

Kenobi was delicate now, but just as clearly trying not to let it show. He sniffed the meat subtly, making the move look like he was preoccupied with adjusting his clothing, but Rex saw the sniff. 

Rex bit into his own not-nerf, still on the skewer that Fives had fashioned to cook the meat. It was surprisingly good; it bit back a bit like nerf, but the taste of it was more like—

Kenobi made a sound like Rex had never heard from him, like a choked off gag over a malformed word, and Rex’s head snapped around to see Kenobi spitting the meat to the side, chest shuddering as he heaved. 

“Obi-Wan!” Skywalker wasn’t the first to cry out, but he was the loudest, practically jumping over the fire to get to Kenobi’s side. Kenobi tried to wave him off, but his body wasn’t done with him yet and he spasmed again. Kix was there not a moment later. 

“I’m fine,” Kenobi gritted out, waving his hand at both of them to try and make them step back. “I was caught off guard, that’s all.” 

“But what happened?” Skywalker demanded. 

Kenobi took a few deep breaths and looked at Skywalker for a moment. “It tastes like Matshi," he said, his voice strained. He spat, and breathed heavily for a long moment. 

“Matshi?” Tano asked quietly, and Skywalker looked over to her for a moment, concern clear on his features. 

“Type of fish,” Skywalker explained. “A very fishy, fish.” 

“Delicacy in the Core,” Kenobi said. “Favored by Chancellor Valorum when I was young.” He looked up, rueful. “Have you ever gotten food poisoning, Ahsoka?” 

Tano shook her head, eyes wide. “The healers said I’m less prone because of the acids in my stomach.” 

Kenobi smiled faintly, even as Skywalker looked a bit shaken. “Ah, the benefits of being a predator.” He patted Skywalker on the back. “I’m fine, Anakin, just startled. Finish eating.” 

“You sure?” Skywalker asked, and Kenobi nodded. 

“Quite,” he said, and looked at Kix. “I ate undercooked Matshi at a function. It put me under for over a week. It was…quite terrible, and I’m afraid I scared my master quite thoroughly. But this is not Matshi, and I will be fine.” 

“Of course, Sir,” Kix said, and went back to his seat. Rex knew, however, that Kix wouldn't be letting Kenobi out of his sight anytime soon. 

Rex looked over at Fives, who looked down quickly _“Bic cuyir nayc gar buirkan.”_ ”

Fives breathed for a moment, then glanced up at Rex. His eyes were dark, and he said: _“Tion’jor vaabir gar sirbur ibac?”_

Rex smirked. _“Jorcu Ni cuy' te al'verde, bal gar ganar at sushir at ni.”_

Fives laughed, a single huff, but it was enough. He began to eat again.

Echo caught Rex’s arm as he pulled back. _“Entye,”_ he whispered. Rex smiled again, and raised his hand to gently cuff that back of Echo’s head.

Rex shook his head. _Vod’ika._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bic cuyir nayc gar buirkan - It’s not your responsibility (not your fault)  
> Tion'jor vaabir gar sirbur ibac? - Why do you say that? (are you sure?)  
> Jorcu Ni cuy' te al'verde, bal gar ganar at sushir at ni - because I’m the commander and you have to listen to me.  
> Entye - thanks  
> Vod’ika - little brother.


	6. Chapter 6

The rain finally ceased somewhere around the planet’s midnight, though it was cool enough that everything would stay well and truly soaked until mid-day, and even then the shadows would keep their moisture for as long as they could. It was not the ideal conditions for drying food, but Fives kept watch through the night, stoking the fire and directing the smoke while the rest of them alternated watch. 

When the sun finally rose to a height that meant “morning,” Rex found himself standing with Kenobi, Skywalker, and Fives as Fives gave his report. 

“The good news is that the smoke is doing its work,” Fives said, testing a piece of meat with his bare fingers. He shrugged. “The bad news is that, with all this rain, it’s taking longer than it should. As long as the weather holds, we’ll be able to pack it up tonight, after the heat of the day, but it shouldn’t move until then, or we’ll risk it spoiling.” 

Kenobi nodded slowly, one arm crossed over his chest as the other strokes his beard. Skywalker, most likely without realizing it, mirrored Kenobi’s stance, the finger of his metal hand tapping his mouth. 

“Well, the obvious answer is to leave you and one of your brothers here to guard the food; you can catch up with us once the meat is packed.” 

Kenobi frowned, dropping his hand. “I don’t like the idea of us being separated for that long,” he said, and raised a pointed eyebrow at Skywalker. “And no, I didn’t like it when you and Ahsoka ran off to catch us dinner yesterday, either, but save sitting on you, there was no way to stop you.” 

Skywalker smirked, as if proud of that, and Kenobi rolled his eyes. “Still, just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean it isn’t the best plan. Rex, if you wouldn’t mind asking for a volunteer to stay with Fives, perhaps someone who had an earlier watch so that Fives could get some rest for a while, the rest of us will break camp.” He looked out towards the direction of the ziggurat. “If we reach our destination early enough, we may be able to send a few more back to help carry the load; walls are much easier to defend than a camp, after all.” 

Rex nodded, steadfastly ignoring the amused look Anakin sent his way when Kenobi called him by name. “I’ll ask the men now, General.” 

Kenobi smiled at him. “Thank you, Rex,” he said, and with a salute, Rex beat a tactical retreat. 

Jesse called out to Rex as he passed, sounding far too amused, “Where’re the Clankers, Captain?” 

Rex turned heel and spun, “Jesse, thank you for volunteering. You’ll be staying with Fives to guard the food supply.” 

Jesse opened his mouth, as if to complain, but instead simply gave a short sigh and saluted. “Yes, Captain.” 

Camp was packed up quickly, and with Jesse and Fives staying behind. Echo also ended up staying with the food; he couldn’t patrol, but he could shoot and it would give Jesse and extra pair of eyes while Fives slept. Rex walked with Tup and Kix, in the middle of their troop, glad to be able to move more quickly, though he was hesitant about leaving anyone behind. 

Kenobi lead the charge today, and Tano was with him to continue learning about trailblazing and offer another set of eyes and Force senses. Skywalker took up the rear; his lightsaber stayed holstered on his belt, but Rex knew that the clasp was loose enough for a quick draw. While Skywalker appeared to have more of his attention on fiddling with the transponder in his hands, Rex had been with Skywalker too long to not know the motions of his hands were habit and that his attention was on the fungoid forest around them. 

Some divine force must have been smiling at them that day, because one moment Rex was listening to Echo mutter about protocol, and the next they were stepping into a large clearing that was filled by a grand stone ziggurat, largely intact but covered with creeping vines. 

“Ahsoka,” Kenobi said, his voice hushed. “What do you sense?” 

Tano frowned, her mouth pressing together as she focused. After a moment, she shook her head. “There’s a lot of life there, but I don’t sense anything aware. It feels...deserted and overrun.” 

Kenobi nodded. “Good job,” he said. “That is exactly as I sense. Still, we must be cautious. We already know of a few animals that are able to shield themselves in the Force, and they can be quite dangerous. It wouldn’t do for us to discover a new species, just for it to eat us for lunch.” 

“No, Master, it’s much better if we eat it for lunch,” Tano said, and Kenobi nodded for a moment, before he gave a mild double-take. 

“You’ve been listening far too much to Anakin,” Kenobi said, dryly, and Tano grinned at him. Skywalker, who had been creeping closer behind them, appeared next to Rex just in time to hear his former master’s comment. Anakin’s grin well matched Tano’s, save for his lack of fangs.

Rex let himself smile as well, his face hidden as it was behind his bucket. Kenobi looked over his shoulder and, somehow, met Rex’s eyes through his visor. Rex stilled, and forced himself to relax. “Rex,” he said. “We need to establish a perimeter, and search the temple for potential pitfalls. Anakin, you take Ahsoka, I’ll take Rex with me. Kix, Tup--you’re on the perimeter. Stay in paris, and stay alert. We don’t know what we’re walking in to.” 

Rex adjusted the grip on his blaster as he nodded, and followed Kenobi out of the fungoid forest. Behind him, he could hear Tup and Kix as they began their recon, but the sound quickly faded as they began to truly move in stealth. 

Calling the structure before them a ziggurat was a bit of a misnomer; it was a massive construction of stone, in a stepped-pyramid shape, but that’s not all it was; the pyramid was only the first building in a series of three connected structures, and further seemed to be cut off at the top, as if the architects had stopped before reaching the pinnacle. The other structures, while they could see hints of them, were mostly hidden by the steps. 

Skywalker tilted his head as they approached (all three Jedi had their ‘sabers in their hands, and Rex quietly thumbed off the safety of his blaster, making sure it’s blast was primed and ready), and said: “I think that’s a landing platform.” 

Almost as one, they stopped and peered up. “Are you sure?” Kenobi asked. Skywalker shrugged. 

“As sure as I can be until we get closer, but why else would they cut it short like that? Stopping at that level leaves room for a ship to land.” 

“Maybe the top level was the ship,” Tano suggested. “It wouldn’t be the first culture we’ve seen that lived in a ship like that.” 

“Nor the first we’ve found abandoned,” Kenobi agreed. “If that’s the case, I wonder who they were.” 

“I’m more worried about why they left,” Rex said. “And if it has anything to do with the net around this planet.” 

“All valid concerns,” Kenobi said, advancing once more. “But none that we’ll satisfy if we stay here. Come on, I see what might be an entrance.” 

Tano and Skywalker exchanged and look, and Skywalker rolled his eyes; Rex knew Skywalker had the reputation for being reckless, and he was without doubt, but Rex knew that some of Skywalker’s bad habits had been picked up from his master--and Kenobi’s inability to have regard for his own safety when there was a _mystery_ or a _discovery_ to be had was proof positive of at least one of them. 

Kenobi had, in fact, found an entrance; it was a doorway four times as wide as Rex and twice and high, that opened to the darkened interior. The four of them exchanged looks on the threshold, and then as one the Jedi each pulled out and ignited their lightsaber, Tano choosing her shoto blade. Rex adjusted his visor to it’s low-light setting, and turned on the spotlight on his blaster. 

Kenobi and Skywalker nodded at each other and crossed the threshold at the same time. Rex looked at Tano. 

“Five credits we’re pulling Skywalker out of a hole before the end of the day.” 

Tano looked him over, eyes narrowed. “Ten says Master Obi-Wan will find a gundark nest.” 

“Deal,” Rex said, holding out his fist, and they bumped vambraces. 

“Come on, you two,” Kenobi called back. “Now’s not the time to dawdle.” 

Rex smirked when Tano rolled her eyes, and they walked into the ziggurat. 

It wasn’t nearly as dark as Rex had expected. There were holes high up, or perhaps thin windows (it was too far to get a clear reading), that let in the sunlight, and the beams reflected off of whatever reflective stoneface still remained--the walls appeared to be made of some sort of volcanic rock in a deep ocean-blue. At the height of the temple’s use, this main entryway must have been quite bright. 

Tano had been right about one thing; the place felt deserted, even to Rex. The walls were covered with flat fungoids like steps that scaled to the ceiling. They were certainly big enough to look like steps, though Rex wondered if they were strong enough to actually bear their weight. (Fives would be one to climb them to find out--or perhaps Jesse, if it was to show off for Kix--that is, if Skywalker didn’t try it first). The floor was fairly carpeted in something like lichen, though there were bare patches there and there exposing the rock. It meant that walking through the hall was like walking across plush carpeting. 

“It’s kinda pretty,” Tano said, and Rex had to agree; there was a sort of mystical charm to this place, to the whole planet, really. 

“It is, rather,” Kenobi agreed. “But don’t touch anything barehanded until we can get Kix to run a full tox screen. Some of the prettiest things in nature are the most deadliest--especially when it comes to fungus.” 

Rex looked over at Kenobi, but it was Skywalker to said what he was thinking. “You sound entirely too enthusiastic about that, you know that, right?” 

“I see nothing wrong a bit of awe and a healthy respect of nature, Anakin. The Living Force finds its splendor in such places. Besides,” he added, casting a sly look. “My enthusiasm may just help us find food to eat.” 

Skywalker made a face. “Ugh. Eat fungus?” 

Kenobi rolled his eyes. “You’re continued aversion to mushrooms makes no sense, Anakin. I have seen you eat live insects and roasted lizards.” 

“Well, yeah,” Anakin said with a shrug. “That’s _food_.” 

“Not always,” Kenobi muttered. 

They passed by a central construct in the middle of the room, like a giant fountain--though any water that may have once been inside was long since dried up. Instead, a small covering of pale buds perked up as Kenobi drew near, following his progress as he passed, and blooming in the light of his saber. 

“Oh!” Kenobi said, leaning in for a closer look. “I think these flowers are Force sensitive.” 

“What makes you say that?” Skywalker asked, and they walked closer. Tano stood on her toes for a better look. Maybe it was all the cheesy credit-romance Jedi holonovels that Hardcase read, but Rex didn’t want to get closer to the strange plant. It could have all sorts of weirdness in its spores (“No, no, read this one. You’ll like it. This time there’s sex pollen,” Hardcase had said, grinning and wagging his eyebrows. Rex had rolled his eyes and given that book a pass, even if the “Jedi” on the cover had an awfully familiar red beard). 

“Look,” Kenobi said, and moved his saber past the flowers once more. As one, the petals turned to follow the blade. “I think they’re sensing the kyber crystal.” 

“That’s incredible,” Tano breathed, eyes wide and fascinated. 

“I wonder if there are any crystal caves around here,” Skywalker said absently. “It’s not a bad idea to have a secondary supply of kyber, you know?” 

“It’s more likely that there are animals on this planet that mimic the force signature of kyber,” Kenobi said, pulling away. Rex was relieved when the flowers began to close and not one of them looked ready to shoot projectile pollen their way. “If we have time when we leave, I’d love to try and bring a sample back to Coruscant with me,” he said. “The botanists would love to examine a new breed of Force sensitive plant.” 

“Obi-Wan, as long as it’s not trying to eat me, I’ll help you carry it,” Skywalker said. He lifted his blade higher. “Now, the bigger question: Which way to do you want?” 

Rex looked, and before them were two doors, both opening to a darker shade of pitch. Neither looked inviting, and Rex doubted that there were windows to light the way. 

Kenobi hummed. “Well, I believe I took right last time, so this time Rex and I will go left.” 

“Sounds good,” Skywalker said. “Come on, Snips.” 

“Coming, Skyguy.” 

Kenobi watched Skywalker and Tano enter the right-hand door, still bickering gently, and then turned to Rex. “Ready?” 

Rex adjusted the strap of his blaser. “Born ready, sir.” 

Kenobi’s smile twisted wryly, but he lead the way through the second door with a small flourish, and Rex followed.

**Author's Note:**

> naakla, ge - peaceful, almost.
> 
> jii gar kar'taylir bic’s an at haran - now you know it’s all going to hell
> 
> gar kar'taylir, jorcu vi cuyir mhi - You know, because we’re us
> 
> tion'jor gar ganar at sirbur ibac, - why did you have to say that?
> 
> jii bic Kelir banar. - now it will happen.
> 
> she gar - only you


End file.
